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She bit her lip as she contemplated his words.

“Amy?” he coaxed.

“No, you didn’t read it wrong. There are very few people—actually, maybe only two or three that I really feel comfortable with—who know and like the real me.”

“I want to be in that circle.”

Amy’s laugh was raw. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart, I do.”

“No—”

“Don’t you want to get to know me?” He kept his voice soft and gentle.

“Sure, I do, but if this goes any further, then you’ll start asking really personal questions. Questions about my past.” She whispered quietly.

“You don’t have to answer any question I ask. You don’t have to do a damn thing that makes you uncomfortable,” he promised her.

“But then we’re not in a real relationship, are we?” She sounded so forlorn.

“We’re friends, of course we’re in a real relationship.”

She didn’t respond.

“Or did you mean something more? Because if you did, you know that’s where I want to go.”

“Yeah, I know that. I want that too, but…” she bit her lip.

“But what, Honey?”

“I’m scared.”

Ryker gave a mental fist pump. At last, they were getting down to brass tacks. “So either it works or it doesn’t work,” he smiled. “But I have a question for you. A year from now, are you going to be more upset if you tried and we crashed and burned, or more upset that you didn’t try at all?”

Again, she didn’t respond.

“I’ll let you think about that.” He smiled. “In the meantime, tell me how you’re going to spend all of Beatrice’s and the bank’s money.”

“I am not going to do that,” Amy shouted.

Ryker chuckled. “Yes, you are. And do you know why? Because you’re a smart businesswoman, that’s why.”

“Ryker, this is all too much for me. I’ve got to get off the computer. I need to wash my face, get a facemask, and then get into the shower.”

“Well before you do, I want to get serious for a minute.”

Ryker felt sweat forming on the back of his neck. He never sweat!

“Oh hell, I knew the other shoe was going to drop,” she moaned.

“I want you to be brave, Amy. Even braver than taking Beatrice’s money, which I know damn well that you will, because you’re fan-fucking-tastic business woman.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked tentatively.

“My mom’s sixtieth birthday is next month. Of course, it’s in California. All of the family will be there. I want you to come. I’ll drive up from Virginia Beach and we’ll fly out of D.C. together.”

It was as if the screen froze again.